Smiling at Strangers on Trains
by AN Seranov
Summary: As far as Mongolia, as close as my clothes, your presence pervading, but it still never shows, as close as the answer I never quite know, I don't quite remember...
1. Prologue

**SMILING AT STRANGERS ON TRAINS  
**  
A Seranov Industries Production  
  
by Alexei Seranov  
  
Footprints? I had thought to myself. People don't usually walk in this weather. At least people who aren't me. Tokyo under snow is typically a very pristine thing, as most just take the metro. They'd walk the ten, twenty feet from their warm, cozy homes or apartments to the nearby metro entrances. Then onto the heated trains which would bring them to where ever they wished to be. I just happen to like the snow. No one ever walked on the sidewalks, mussing the calm beauty on the ground.  
  
It was then I saw who was making those footprints. They were nearing the entrance of the metro, wrapped in a big red jacket, long red hair flowing down their back. She stopped for a moment, and turned to look me straight in the eyes. Gorgeous blue, I remember thinking. And then she was walking down into the hustle of the subway.  
  
I followed after. What was I supposed to do? I needed to get to class. First day of college. Need to make a good first impression, y'know? So I check for incoming cars, and I start crossing. I'd always been overly confident about crossing streets. They'll move, I would say. Safely on the other side, I walked down into the metro myself. People everywhere. I nudge my way past a couple, and soon enough, reach the ticket machine. I drop my nine hundred into the vending machine-like contraption, and retrieve the small ticket. I pocket it and move towards the gate and the multiple lines leading up to it.  
  
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of red. I look quickly, but whatever it was is gone. I shrug slightly, and just wait in the line. I always hated those lines. I finally reach the gate, and put my ticket in the slot. Yay. All that waiting for this. I walk through the turnpike and head over to the second platform. Must be my lucky day. As I move to sit, the train comes rumbling into the station. Heaving my messenger bag over my shoulder again, I stand and move into the car. As we all funnel in, I see another flash of red, and all of a sudden I'm forced up against the window of the car. The wind is knocked from my lungs, and as I look down to see what hit me, I just see the girl from before pressed against my chest.  
  
Well, yeah, if I were some suave, debonair spy or something, I would have said something charming and endearing, getting her attention and all that. "Oww." Quite the lady-killer, wasn't I? She looks up at me, and our eyes lock. For a second, she's blushing and looking completely apologetic. And then her eyes flash, and I know I'm about to be killed.  
  
She pushes against me, in an attempt to get her personal space, but the train has filled up by now, and she's stuck there. "What are you doing, you idiot?! Get off of me!" Well, I'd be glad to oblige, but I'm sorta crushed against a wall. I give her a pleading look, and manage to shift away just a bit, but she's still pressed up against my chest.  
  
"Sorry." She seems to get even more frustrated, so I just don't say anything.  
  
"Look, just don't move. This is bad enough as it is."  
  
"Uhh... okay." Now that I'm close enough to see her well, it's easy to tell she's beautiful. Crystal blue eyes, creamy white skin, that long auburn hair, and a killer body, at least from the way the bulky clothes seem to mold to her. She's a foreigner, as far as I can tell, but quite the beauty nonetheless.  
  
"Stop staring at me or you won't live long enough to regret it." My eyes bulge out of my head, and for a moment, there's a fire in her eyes, and I can't help but wonder if she means it. That fire starts to draw me in, and I can't stop looking at her.  
  
SLAP.  
  
"Oww."  
  
"Idiot."  
  
"Sorry." That look again. I breathe a sigh of relief as we pull into the station and everyone files out. She pushes away from me and follows after. The newfound freedom of not being flattened against a pane of glass is both a reward and a punishment. She had been warm, pressed against me, and it was most certainly not a bad thing. I see the girl disappear into the crowd, and realize I'm smiling.  
  
**_SaSoTsAsOtSaSoTsAsOt_**  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Many thanks to XXXG-00W0, FinalMax, VerbalKint, stormofdragons and Cavalier for helping me flesh out at least a little bit of the storyline. Thanks to SnowyFairy16 for prereading. Arigato oneechan. More thanks to **Million Dead**, for the awesome song this story is based on, Smiling at Strangers on Trains.  
  
Oh yeah. I don't own Eva. Don't sue. 


	2. One

**SMILING AT STRANGERS ON TRAINS**  
  
An Evangelion AU Fiction  
  
A Seranov Industries Production  
  
by Alexei Seranov  
  
I sigh as I tread through the snow. It hasn't gotten any deeper, thankfully, but it hasn't gotten any thinner, either. Beautiful it may be, but it's still a bitch to walk through, especially carrying this huge thing. Damn cello. I look towards the entrance to the station, and glance around. Again, I see her walking. I tilt my head down, pull the brow of my hat down over my eyes, and keep walking. Might as well not risk it if she happened to look back.  
  
I have no idea why I take these measures. Since that first little incident a week or so ago, I've never even seen her, except for maybe passing glances. Always just a flash of red. No matter. School's been a big enough distraction. It's all pretty easy so far, but I can see that changing pretty quickly. So far I think I'm keeping up pretty well, I don't have any complaints. As I shift my bag to get it more comfortable, I begin descending the steps to the metro proper. It's not as crowded as it had been that first day I had come here, and I found myself wondering why that was. I realized I was standing at the base of the stairs still, so I snapped to awareness and made my way over to the ticket machines. Yen, meet machine. Machine, give ticket. Hello ticket. Off we go!  
  
I smile widely at the dumb joke in my head. I do that sometimes. I always get weird looks for it, but whatever. I'm amused, and that's good. This just might be a good day. I walk to one of the ever-present lines. Wait, wait, move, wait, wait. I sigh again. Blah. This is never amusing. When it's finally my turn to swipe my ticket, I do so, and walk through the turnstile. I am, yet again, reminded of the sheer asinine logic of it all, but y'know, sometimes you just gotta say screw it and move on.  
  
I wander slowly towards the platform. I started off early today, so the train isn't due for a few minutes. Once I reach one of the mildly uncomfortable-looking benches, I shrug. I was always lazy early in the morning. I set my cello case next to the bench, and shift my bag around so the part with my books and my laptop in it is in front of me, and plop down. Ah. Much better than standing up. As I settle into the bench, I look around a bit. I don't see her anywhere, so I pull off the baseball cap and stuff it into my bag. I hate hats. Can't stand the things. I smile lightly as I lean back, hands over the backrests. It's good to be able to relax like this sometimes, even if it is just on the platform of the metro, waiting for my train. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remark on how empty the station seems, comparatively.  
  
The rumbling starts up, low at first, then louder as it rushes closer to our position. The train slows to a stop in front of me, like it always does. I push myself up while shouldering my bag again. I dust my yellow coat off, more from habit than for any real reason. Once again I heft my cello, and move towards the hulking machine. The doors open, and those of us who've congregated around the sliding panels begin to move inside. I move more towards the back of the car, and after carefully putting my cello on the luggage rack, I sit down. No need to stand today, that's always a good thing. I get comfortable and get ready for the train to leave.  
  
Then she daintily sits down next to me. "Hello, jerk."  
  
Oh shit. I try not to flinch, but I can tell I must have reacted somehow. I try to peek at her out of the corner of my eye, but she's glaring at me just enough to keep me facing forwards. It's not really an angry glare, just a "don't frickin' look at me" type of thing. So I oblige. "Nice to see you again as well." She snorts, a very unladylike gesture, but still manages to maintain that air of femininity that made her more like a supermodel than a normal girl. She was pretty, that was undoubtable, but she could be quite the feisty one. Maybe that was what drew me to her. "So... uhh... where are you headed?" A simple question. Small talk. Not such a risky thing.  
  
"Why do you care?"  
  
"Just curious, is all."  
  
"I'm going to the University."  
  
"Ah, cool. So am I." I turn to face her now, instead of just having my head inclined in her direction.  
  
"I see. So..." She gives me this look, and it takes a second for me to understand what she's getting at.  
  
"Oh. Shinji. Nice to-" I stumble all over my words yet again. "To meet you, I guess."  
  
"Asuka." She puts out a hand, and I reach for it. She's definitely a foreigner, what with the handshake. Asuka gives me the once-over, as if sizing me up for a fight or some such thing.  
  
"So, where are you from?" She looks like she's gonna simply not answer for a moment, but then she lets out a sigh and averts her gaze a bit.  
  
"Germany." I wonder why she won't look at me now, but I let it go. Screw it, y'know?  
  
"Cool. I've never really left Japan." Well, there was that one time...  
  
"You poor idiot. The only reason I'm here is because Tokyo U is such a good school. I can't stand most of these stupid Japanese traditions, let alone this ass-backwards country." While not some kind of egocentric maniac, I did take at least a little pride in my country, so I must have grimaced slightly at her. "What, did I hurt your feelings?"  
  
"No. But it's not like I've been openly badmouthing your country."  
  
"And you'd better not, if you know what's good for you." A too-innocent smile and a short glare and she turns forwards again. I may never understand women, but this Asuka has to be the most complex of the bunch. I shrug lightly, as to not attract her fervor again. A landmine, she was. One wrong step and boom. Oh well. She'd keep me on my toes.  
  
As the train pulls into the station, she gathers her jacket and backpack about her, and stands in a single graceful movement. I watch her walk out, purpose in her step. I gather my things, shoulder my bag again, lift the still-heavy string instrument in its case, and walk off the train.  
  
**_SaSoTsAsOtSaSoTsAsOt  
_**  
"Be my own prophet, be my own sun, be the one who doesn't love, no..." Okay, fine. I can't sing for my life. Sue me. Standing here, waiting to cross the street, my mind kinda wanders. Man, I haven't been able to get that song out of my head. My music professor had been exposing us to a myriad of different pieces from as far back as the 9th century, and as recent as fifteen years ago. I had liked most of the classical stuff best. However, two random songs had caught my attention. And I could not for the life of me get this one out of my head. There were bass guitars in each, and maybe if I learned to play those parts on my cello, I just might be able to get rid of them.  
  
I begin my short trek to the metro station, aware of the light dusting of snow falling. It's late February already, and I'm surprised it's still snowing. Winter usually comes and goes rather quickly here. No matter. As I walk onto the stairs and get under street level, the powder disappears. I go through the routine. Machine, ticket, line, turnstile. Platform two. Always the same. But that's alright. A little monotony helps sometimes.  
  
Asuka plops down next to me. "Hey there, Shinji."  
  
"Uhh..." Her forwardness surprises me. She seemed a bit miffed at me the other day. "Hey Asuka." She favors me with a cursory glance, as if telepathically saying "WHAT IS YOUR MAJOR MALFUNCTION?!" imitating that guy from the movie with the Americans... something about a coat. Whatever. "How are you?" She sighs dramatically, like the weight of the world is on her shoulders.  
  
"The people here are so drab. Everyone is either half-witted or too busy staring at me to hold anything remotely near intelligent conversation."  
  
"Hey, I'm r-right here, y'know."  
  
"You can formulate a coherent thought. That's close enough." I give her a dry look, and she smiles slightly at that.  
  
"Well thank you, milady. I am so pleased to be graced with your infinite wisdom." Her smile spreads a bit, and I smile a little too, even though my heart is beating like a million times a minute. Where I'm pulling this confidence from, I still don't know. We settle into a comfortable silence. I can't believe I managed that. I didn't even stutter!  
  
"What are you smiling so widely about, hm?" I look at her quickly, and there's an inquisitive posture about her. However, I think I see a teasing glimmer in her ocean blue eyes. I steel myself and open my mouth.  
  
"N-n-nothing." Perfect. Stuttering moron once more. Woo. Her face darkens a bit again. Damnit. There goes any progress made.  
  
"Typical." Wait a minute? Progress? Since when have I cared what this girl thinks?  
  
"H-hey! What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"You're such a boring little boy." And as the train stops, she stands, grabs her things, and walks out, not so much as a single look at me.  
  
**_SaSoTsAsOtSaSoTsAsOt  
_**  
I stand at my corner. Cars are darting past. One warm weekend and now all the snow is long gone. It's nice to not have to hobble through the stuff, but even after being inundated by it, I still enjoyed the powdery precipitation. There's a pause, no cars coming on either side as far as I can see. I walk across, head down, looking at the dreary, still-soaked pavement. I hadn't seen Asuka in days, and though it hadn't worried me too much, I still wondered if she was avoiding me. Oh well. Classes have been going great. I'm acing my exams. A little bit of studying, some natural talent and a nice helping of luck go a long way. Asuka would be proud if she knew.  
  
Damnit! Why am I always thinking about her? Sure she was attractive, but damnit, her attitude could use a bit of adjustment. I find myself standing in line. Odd. Apparently it's merely habit down here now. I await my turn patiently, and realize the wait doesn't bother me so much anymore. Well, that's something I can appreciate. As I pass through, I take a quick glance around. I stop suddenly and my jaw drops open as my eyes fix on red hair.  
  
There she is. Damnit. Oh well. Might as well try and talk to her. Maybe she's not so... whatever was wrong with her last time. I wander over, and luckily, she's looking the other way. Don't want her running off or anything... not that she has anywhere to go. When I finally reach the bench she's sitting on, I set down my cello, and the sound attracts her attention. Her gaze connects with mine, and at first there's uncertainty, then a surge of emotion, before indifference takes over. Was there a twinge of happiness in there?  
  
"Oh. It's you."  
  
"H-Hi Asuka. Haven't seen you-" I try to just finish the damn sentence under the indifferent gaze. "Uhh... around, lately."  
  
"Hm." Her soft acknowledgment ends the little conversation, so I sit down and get comfortable as we wait for our conveyance. I look over at her. She's not wearing her standard red down jacket. Instead, she's wearing a simple black hoodie, the hood tucked underneath her long tresses. I admire the way it looks on her a little, trying to be as discrete as possible. She'd only hit me once in the time we'd known each other, but it had hurt. I would have rather not attracted her ire. She's just staring at the ceiling now.  
  
"Hard week?"  
  
"You better believe it."  
  
"Well, what's wrong?"  
  
"Why the hell should I tell you?"  
  
"B-because maybe I can h-help?"  
  
"Hah. If I can't do it myself, then it can't be done."  
  
"Not if you keep that attitude," I mutter to myself.  
  
"What was that?" I look her in the eyes.  
  
"N-nothing. Sorry."  
  
"That's what you always say." And then the train came rumbling into the station.  
  
"T-that's because I don't know what to say around you! You're always so caustic. Do you hate me or something? 'Cause I sure can't figure out why you treat me this way." She looks me straight in the eyes, a cold look, I can't quite make out the emotions, and I think that's the intent.  
  
"It's because you're so pathetic."  
  
"What?" I gape at her openly  
  
"Always apologizing for every little thing you do wrong. Why don't you try being a man or something?"  
  
"Well, I had thought I was being a gentleman," I burst out. "But apparently that's not good enough for you!" I avert my eyes and stalk onto the train. She follows after me, and she's not trying to hide it. Each step seemed to reverberate through the floor, and I swore I could feel it in my legs. I reach the usual place in the back of the car, and take off my cello. I carefully put it on the rack, and turn to find a seat. She stomps up behind me, puts a hand on my shoulder, and spins me around.  
  
THWAP.  
  
Right into her waiting hand.  
  
"Oww! Goddamnit Asuka!"  
  
"Just SHUT UP!" She attempts to hit me again, but I just grab her arms, so all she can do is fidget about in my grip. "Let me go, you pervert!" I force her arms against the glass, and hopes she calms down soon.  
  
"Stop this, Asuka!" I see her struggling in my grip, her eyes spewing cold fire, her hair forming a wild halo in her sharp movements to escape my shaky hold on her, and all I can do is stare at the fiery siren before me. My arms loosen, and I let go. She pushes me away and straightens, glaring at me with all her fury. "What is wrong with you?"  
  
"You idiot!" This time I see the hand coming, but I make no move to stop it.  
  
**THHHWAAAAP!**  
  
God. Damn. That one stung. I raise a hand to my cheek and lock eyes with her. Rage, embarrassment, they shone clearly in the light blue pools. But the tears in her eyes, they were what hurt the most.  
  
**_SaSoTsAsOtSaSoTsAsOt  
_**  
Author's Notes:  
  
Many thanks to XXXG-00W0, FinalMax, VerbalKint, stormofdragons, Cavalier, Novalorian and JimmyWolk for helping me flesh out at least a little bit of the storyline, as well as for contructive criticism. Thanks to my roommate, Drew, and SnowyFairy16 for prereading. More thanks to **Million Dead**, for the awesome song this story is based on, Smiling at Strangers on Trains. Also thanks **Minus**, for writing the lyrics for Who's Hobo?, another great song that I have ruthlessly pillaged from in my quest for awesome ficcage. o.o  
  
Oh yeah. I don't own Eva. Don't sue. 


End file.
